


The Lights Are On And Everybody's Home

by tjstar



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Band, First Dates, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Shopping Malls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-11 09:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4430051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tjstar/pseuds/tjstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bronx helps Pete and Patrick to find each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Patrick Stump starts a new life into a new rental apartment with sensible ideas and good perspectives; it’s time to drown the corpses of past mistakes.

New life always starts with shopping, right?

It’s gonna be fine, Patrick convinces himself; but he needs a distraction, so he aimlessly wanders through the huge supermarket, thinking what he wants to buy. Maybe, a frying pan — Patrick decides and heads to the shelves with a large assortment of kitchen wares. Actually, he’s a complete sucker at cooking, and even when he tries to boil the water for coffee, his kettle manages to burn. So it’s just a whimsy of a man who’s a professional only at green peas thawing.

Patrick looks at frying pans: iron, Teflon and ceramic ones, he has no clue what’s the difference between them.

He’s not a very housewifely guy.

In the middle of his internal dialogue, Patrick feels someone pulls down the hem of his leather jacket, making him to lose his train of thought. Patrick almost drops a heavy pan on his foot when he notices a cute little boy with curly blond hair.

“Can you help me?” the kid asks, looking at Patrick with such a tragic face.

Patrick doesn’t need to be a telepath to realize this boy lost his parents somewhere in the market; this building is a labyrinth, really.

“Yeah,” Patrick lifts up his hat in greeting. “Are you here with your mom?”

The boy trustingly squeezes Patrick’s palm and shakes his head, frowning; Patrick likes children, but he doesn’t know what to do if this little angel — he’s no older than five — is going to cry.

“With my dad,” he explains. “Help me, please.”

Patrick looks around the mall, trying to imagine the appearance of this Tiny Miracle’s dad. Probably, he’s blonde and beautiful, and of course he’s married, and his wife is Miss America or Victoria’s secret model. Patrick used to think that everyone is happy in their relationships except for him.

“What’s your name?” he hopes this kid isn’t scared. “I’m Patrick, by the way.”

“I’m Bronx, and my dad’s name is Pete,” the boy answers.

Well, now Patrick has to be a Good Samaritan, and he remembers himself at the same age; he and Bronx talk about The Sesame Street during their searching for Pete, and kid complains that his dad doesn’t allow him to watch Ghostbusters.

“It’s a cool movie,” Patrick agrees. “Kinda creepy, but funny.”

Patrick catches people’s glances; a pretty young woman says _“You’re a good father”_  , and he slightly chokes; he doesn’t see himself as a dad, even in his twenty-eight. He’d like to, but at the moment his personal life’s shattered to pieces, and there’s no way to repair it. Patrick looks at the toys they’re passing by, and thinks he can buy a Teddy Bear or Lego, and Bronx will be a little less sad. Of course, then they’ll find Pete, and at the evening ~~maybe~~ Patrick will get drunk at home. Amazing plans.

“Daddy!” Bronx yells, and Patrick emerges from the ocean of his depressive thoughts. He bitterly smiles to himself when Bronx runs to a tanned dark-haired man, grabs his arm and drags him to Patrick’s side.

“It’s Pat!” the kid shouts cheerfully as his father picks him up, adjusting him on his left arm.  

“I’m Pete Wentz,” he introduces himself, reaching out his free hand for a handshake. Pete can sigh with relief, but he expected to see Bronx with anyone, but not with a short reddish-blond guy in fedora and thick-rimmed glasses.

“Um… Patrick,” he quickly wipes his palm on his jeans and shakes Pete’s hand. He’s as cute as his son, even though Bronx probably looks like his mother, Patrick guesses. Perfect family. Patrick turns around, to go and finally buy that frying pan, but Pete stops him.

“Thank you,” he looks at Patrick and then at his son. “He’s kinda hyperactive, and…”

“Don’t worry, he’s nice,” Patrick replies, hoping he doesn’t look like a kidnapper or maniac.

“Really, thanks. Maybe, you want some beer?” Pete offers; in his mind it’s the best way to establish contact with anyone.

 _‘Beer?! Give me a bottle of whiskey and leave me alone, family man,’_ Patrick thinks.

“No, I don’t drink,” Patrick says.

“Stay with us!” Bronx blurts out, and Patrick chuckles.

“Really, dude. I want to talk to you,” Pete shrugs carelessly. “There’s a playground near the mall, and we can go there with Bronx.”

Bronx slides off Pete’s arms and hugs Patrick, laughing. Patrick’s confused, but honestly, he doesn’t want to spend the rest of day alone, so he decides to join this strange Wentz-duo.

 

***

Outside the market building, Bronx plays with other children in the sandbox, Pete and Patrick sit on the bench, watching him. There’s an awkward silence, and Patrick makes it even more awkward with his question.

“Where’s your wife?” he asks, feeling like a blushing idiot. He’s sure, Mrs. Wentz’s at home, cooking delicious food and waiting for her son and husband.

“We got divorced,” Pete shrugs. “I’m taking our son on weekends, and that’s all.”

Patrick’s heart explodes, and he wants to comfort Pete, but his brain doesn’t bring right words as always in these situations, and he has to bite his tongue.

“Oh it sucks, I know, I broke up with my boyfr…” Patrick almost punches himself in the face. “With my girlfriend.”

Pete glances at him interestedly and chews his bottom lip. Patrick realizes he didn’t shut up in time and ruined their possible friendship.

“You misspoke,” Pete concludes. “Boyfriend. Why did you leave him?”

Playground is not the most suitable place for conversations like this, but kids are too busy digging things in the sand, so they can’t overhear their dialogue.

“He broke my glasses,” Patrick stares at the ground, feeling Pete’s puzzled look. “…and my nose,” he adds with a loud sigh.

“It’s not noticeable! You have the cutest nose ever,” Pete assures. Patrick smiles, optimistically and sincerely for the first time at this day.

“You have the cutest son ever,” Patrick makes a compliment in response.

Pete’s obsessed with idea to get Patrick’s number, so he pulls his phone out of his pocket and wordlessly gives it to Patrick. Patrick smirks and types his number in; when Bronx suddenly hugs him from behind his back, he feels like he found his family. Maybe it’s his new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> without any reason i can't stop writing things so i hope it's not THAT bad  
> \----  
> i don't speak english so i'm sorry for my bad grammar and you can tell me if there's something wrong


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Pete calls Patrick, he’s confused. His son is a pretty insistent boy, so he makes demands; more precisely, he says he wants to see Patrick again, and _he knows_ that Pete has his number.

“Please,” Bronx looks at Pete with puppy eyes in the best Wentz’s manner; he’s a smart kid, Pete can be really proud of him.

Pete hesitates. One part of him agrees with Bronx, and what’s the problem — he can just call Patrick, but his conscience suggests it’s not so politely. Of course, Patrick has a job, and probably he’s a busy guy, and maybe, this entire ‘supermarket thing’ was just an ordinary event.

But hey — he received Patrick’s number, and there’s nothing criminal to use this advantage.

Bronx crosses his arms over his chest and tries to make a death glare, but starts laughing. Pete smirks and takes his phone, searching through the contacts _‘Patrick’_ and thinking where in his life he chose the wrong way and why does he call some random guy from the mall.

He counts the beeps: one… two… three…

“M-mm, hey?” Patrick’s voice groggy and soft, and suddenly Pete feels his heart starts to melt. _‘Man, your voice is like an audiotherapy.’_

“What are you doing?” Pete asks gently; Bronx climbs onto his lap and stares at him, trying to overhear what they’re talking about.

“I’m sleeping,” Patrick replies, yawning. Pete automatically looks at the wall clock and realizes it’s 4 p.m.   _‘He’s not a morning person, fine.’_

It’s time to start the most important part of the conversation.

“Wanna hang out with us?” Pete blurts out and hears a loud noise as if something fell down on the other end of the line; Pete winces, distancing the phone from his ear, and he just hopes it wasn’t Patrick, but then he hears muffled curses. Oops.

“Yes,” Patrick responds (happily?), and Pete’s face splits into a wide grin; he celebrates the victory, giving Bronx a high-five.

When Pete tells Patrick his address, he notices his son’s rapture. Usually Bronx doesn’t like strangers and talks to adult people reluctantly, but Patrick isn’t included into his black list.

Pete guesses he should do the cleaning in his apartment while he’s waiting for Patrick, but it’s not a date, isn’t it?.. Hey, he doesn’t even know that guy, and he doesn’t even know his last name, but without any reason Pete invited him to his house.

Okay, his son is the reason. Patrick’s number into Pete’s phone contacts is the other reason.

Bronx beams, making great plans about Patrick.

“We can play something!” the boy shouts, jumping around Pete while he’s trying to make the apartment clearer.

Pete smirks and thinks if Patrick will run away from their family, he will be totally right. A few hours later, when Pete hears the doorbell, he realizes he has nowhere to retreat.

He has to open the door as a hospitable man, of course.

“Pat!!” Bronx jumps up and wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck in the hallway as soon as Patrick steps over the threshold.

Pete waves his hand, hoping Patrick’s really _okay_ with that. Surprisingly, Patrick is the cutest and the most perfect creature in the world, and he’s _obviously_ okay with Bronx clinging on him.

“Well… Hi?” Patrick asks, unable to reach his hand out for a handshaking, because Bronx’s sitting on his arms.

“Nice to meet you again, let’s go inside,” Pete offers, making his way to a big couch in the living room. Patrick follows him with Bronx on his arms and sits down, placing the boy onto his lap.

“It’s going to rain,” Patrick says; he thought they will go to a playground again or maybe somewhere else, but now he hears the noise of first drops of water falling from the darkening sky.

Now he’s stuck here with an unfamiliar man and his child. Oh yeah, Patrick is so good at making troubles.

“I can’t let you go without umbrella,” Pete warns, laughing. “You are our guest today, so make yourself at home!”

The word ‘home’ reminds Patrick of his former life, and he sighs; now it’s all different. The thunder rumbles violently, and it makes the things clear: they will not go anywhere. Three of them will be sitting there, and Patrick tries to find some reasons not to stay with double-Wentz, but he can’t. He likes this apartment.

“Are you a superhero?” Bronx takes Patrick’s glasses off. Patrick doesn’t mind that everything in the room instantly becomes blurry.

“Why?”  Patrick focuses on a silhouette in front of him; Bronx is really close, so Patrick can see him pretty well, but Pete is a just a mysterious shadow, standing a two feet away.

“This is your superhero’s mask!” Bronx explains, trying to put Patrick’s glasses back on.

Patrick doesn’t mind when the boy accidentally stabs him in the eye. He rubs his eyelid, and Pete looks at him regretfully, but he smiles at this peaceful scene; he’s amazed by Patrick’s patience.

“Dad, let’s watch TV! I want Ghostbusters, Pat likes Ghostbusters, and he said…” Bronx gives Patrick a hopeful glance.

“Yeah, he wants… We’re here, he can’t get scared, right?” Patrick guesses, and Pete gives up.

“Well… Okay, but we don’t turn the lights off,” he heads to a shelf with DVD’s, searching for a disc with the movie.

Bronx and Patrick nod synchronously, smirking at this funny coincidence. Bronx steals Patrick’s hat and tries to adjust it on his curly hair; Pete wants to say he looks like _Patrick,_ but then he thinks he hasn’t that right.

“You’re soft,” Bronx says contentedly, resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder. It’s not the greatest compliment in Patrick’s life, but now he knows he’s a Superhero, and Superheroes don’t have any shyness.

Pete flops down next to Patrick, and they try to discuss about how cool Bill Murray is, but then Bronx falls asleep, and men keep silence not to wake him up. Dozing off, Patrick blinks a few times in attempts to stay awake; he feels Pete’s thigh presses against his own, and it feels so good, and Patrick feels so safe, so he can’t resist and closes his eyes. For a moment.

When Pete notices that Patrick’s sleeping, he literally sighs with relief — now he can stare at him without a twinge of conscience. Yes, Pete likes Ghostbusters, but the guy next to him with his sleeping son on his lap is much more interesting.

Patrick is beautiful, and it’s the most important thing. He doesn’t even know it; he’s diffident and timid, and… beautiful anyway. Bronx smiles in his sleep, hiding his face under Patrick’s fedora, and Patrick sniffs at the same time. Pete thinks he can see a small bruise on the bridge of Patrick’s nose; it’s almost faded, and now it looks even cute, but the thought about Patrick’s ex-boyfriend makes Pete angry.

Who the hell can hit Patrick? He wants to ask, but it’s none of his business, really.

“I like the movie,” Bronx mumbles, opening his eyes at the final credits. “Pat, wake up!” he pokes Patrick’s stomach with his index finger.

“Woah, I’m sorry… My neighbors are drilling something at nights, so I can’t sleep properly, and oh my God, I’m sor…” Patrick keeps pouring apologies, but Pete cuts him off.

“Hey, man, it’s okay,” Pete reassures, patting Patrick’s knee. “Bronx, it’s time for dinner, and I think Patrick will join us?”

Bronx doesn’t like the food in Pete’s fridge, so he thinks, maybe, Patrick’s presence will make a little miracle.

“Can I drink some coffee?” Patrick asks sheepishly. “Please?”

Pete mentally allows Patrick to drink all the coffee and tea in the cupboards; or he can just sleep on Pete’s couch as long as he wants.

“Of course! Wait a minute!” Pete rushes to the kitchen, Bronx still in Patrick’s hat runs after him, and Patrick finally stretches his numb legs.

“We have an ice-cream, do you like an ice-cream?” a child’s voice asks.

“Yes!” Patrick shouts back. He likes ice-cream. He likes this family. He likes everything.

Fifteen minutes later, three of them are sitting on the couch and watching ‘Tom & Jerry’. Patrick drinks his coffee with the ice-cream, not bothering about the amount of sugar in his _dinner._ Bronx and Pete look happy, and Patrick is in a good mood too; but when the cartoons end, he decides to go home.

There’s an awkward (as awkward as entire Patrick’s life) silence near the door, and it makes him nervous.

“We can drive you home or you can just stay here,” Pete offers.

“Oh no, I’m fine, the bus stop is right here,” Patrick shakes his head. He feels fresh after that giant mug of coffee, and he’s ready to go.

“Okay,” Pete sounds disappointed. “Call me when you’ll get home.”

 Patrick smiles, heading to the door; he shakes Pete’s hand and high-fives Bronx.

“I hope I’ll see you again,” the boy sighs.

“Me too,” Pete and Patrick say in unison, looking at each other.

Patrick’s afraid to seem intrusive, so he takes his fedora back, quickly says goodbye and leaves that wonderful place.

It’s very cold outside, and he almost runs to a bus stop, barely catching the bus; he’s a lucky guy, and he jumps in.

Patrick really wants to spend another day with Wentzes (or just with Pete), so when he lies down onto the bed in his rental apartment, he sends Pete a short message.

_‘i’m home. you’re sweet <3’  _

Patrick smiles when he receives an answer.

_‘you are sweeter ;)’_

 

***

The second time Pete calls Patrick, they both sure it’s a date.

It’s not even a Bronx-day, it’s stupid Wednesday, and there are no reasons for dragging Patrick into Pete’s house again; so they’re just walking down the street, feeling happy and somewhat younger.

Pete flaunts his sense of humor, and Patrick laughs at his dorky jokes, and it’s a nice weather, and… Suddenly Patrick stops and nuzzles into Pete’s shoulder, hiding under the brim of his hat.

“That guy with curly hair, he’s my ex,” Patrick whispers. “He shouldn’t see me.”

Pete thinks that covering his face with his fedora, Patrick becomes even more noticeable, and he just wraps his arms around his friend’s waist and manages to move him away, but then he freezes. _That guy_ , who hurries in their direction, is that assh… a very bad man who hurt Patrick.

Pete wants to beat the shit out of him, but this slightly hippie-man doesn’t look like he’s hurting people for his own pleasure.

“New glasses, Patrick?” the guy asks without any ‘hello’.

“New life, Joe,” Patrick replies, raising his head proudly.

Meeting with ex-boyfriend is always the weirdest and rarest situation for a first date, but Patrick is not the ordinary type anyway, so it’s his style. Pete feels Patrick’s hand grips his t-shirt, and it seems like Joe understands something about their relationships.

“Where have you been all this time?! I couldn’t find you!” Joe takes a step forward and squeezes Patrick’s body into a hug, Patrick’s face presses to his chest.

Pete is jealous as hell, but he watches this scene without having a clue what’s going on.

“I’m sorry, Patrick Stump, officially…” Joe gives him an apologetic look.

And then this temperamental couple accuses each other like they’re playing ping-pong game.

“You broke my nose!!”

“You burned my clothes!”

“You are dating that girl…” Patrick pushes Joe’s hands away, glaring at him.

Pete feels like he should pour a bucket of ice water on these guys not to let them start fighting again. 

“What? You cheated on him, he burned your belongings, and you hit him for that?!” Pete clarifies, because he can’t believe his ears.

Joe nods regretfully, and Patrick just rolls his eyes in irritation.

“Whatever,” Patrick mutters. “Joe, don’t ruin our date, okay? Lovers, friends, it doesn’t matter now. But I think we can be friends, right?”

Pete’s sure Patrick’s hiding a halo under his hat; he’s like 100% sure, even if he saw Patrick without his fedora. Maybe it’s a very small halo?..

“Friends,” Joe tastes this word and then apologizes again. “Don’t think I’m a terrible man,” he says, turning to Pete.

Pete doesn’t think Joe is a terrible man, and everyone can make a mistake, but honestly — he doesn’t punch Joe only because Patrick doesn’t want it. And there are people everywhere.

“Be happy!” Joe gives them a little soulful smile before he winks to Patrick and goes away.

“And you!” Patrick wishes him enthusiastically, blushing when some unknown old man looks at him.

He’s embarrassed, and when Pete rubs his back, Patrick just wants to bury himself alive, because he’s ashamed, and he has that stupid habit to forgive everyone who makes him suffer, and it’s not good. He really wants to be stronger, and — probably — Pete thinks he’s terrified, and Joe threatens him, and it’s not even true, and…

“Let’s go to the movies? Do you like… m-m… French old comedies?” now, when Pete holds Patrick’s hand, the clouds in Patrick’s head are not so black.

“Um… okay,” Patrick agrees hesitantly, but he’s so safe with Pete, and he remembers Bronx, and his heart fills up with warmth. He still feels sad about breaking up with Joe, but at least their conversation wasn’t that awful, and he should not scold himself. And Patrick likes old French movies more then anything in the cinematograph.

Having come to this conclusion, Patrick finally relaxes.

 

***

The first time Patrick stays overnight at Pete’s apartment is romantic.

It’s a late evening after their ~~clumsy~~ first date, and Patrick misses his bus, but he doesn’t refuse when Pete invites him into his place without offering to drive him home.

They’re just sitting on the couch and cuddling, warming with a hot coffee and telling each other about themselves. Pete says he writes articles for a bunch of newspapers and he wants to publish a book; Patrick tells him he plays sets at restaurants, coffee-shops and even at clubs and he likes it despite the fact it doesn’t bring much income.

Pete leans closer, trying to catch every detail of Patrick’s feature; green-blue eyes, funny reddish bangs, and even tiny, almost unnoticeable freckles on his nose.

“You have beautiful lips,” Pete whispers, unable to run away from his thoughts.

“Sorry, I’m not kissing on the first date,” Patrick chuckles, holding his cup of coffee when Pete hugs him.

“I respect it,” Pete responds, feeling Patrick’s statement sounds promising.

When Patrick falls asleep on Pete’s couch at about 2 a.m. Pete thinks that Patrick’s neighbors must be really horrible people with hummers and drills, if they don’t let him sleep peacefully.

But it’s even better.

 

***

They learn little things about each other. For example, Patrick can’t live without coffee at mornings, and Pete is the one who always forgets to turn the lights off in the rooms. Patrick is allergic to any flowers, but Pete gives him a hundred of a different guitar picks, and it makes them both happy. And when Pete receives a bag with Metallica logo for his notebook, he beams like Bronx when he unpacks his Christmas gifts.

On weekends, Patrick is incredibly good at singing lullabies for Bronx, and Pete is a professional at reading fairytales; Bronx can call Patrick just ‘Pat’, because he’s a child, and it’s normal, but when Pete tries to call him ‘Trick’, Patrick wrinkles his nose (okay, when Pete goes ahead with that ‘Pattycakes’ nickname, ‘Trick’ automatically goes out of Patrick’s blacklist).

Patrick likes the truth, and he seriously can burn someone’s clothes, if he’ll know about cheatings, but Pete isn’t going to give him reasons.

After their first kiss in the kitchen, Pete memorizes that Patrick tastes like caramel cornflakes (which belongs to Bronx, actually), and Patrick realizes he really _loves_ the taste of Pete’s peppermint toothpaste. They can’t do anything else except for kissing, because Bronx it sleeping in the living room, but it doesn’t disappoint them.

Pete and Patrick share this new life, and they know a lot of ways how to turn it into something wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i always feel guilty about updating already finished works but i just wanted to write about patrick's ex, honestly (joe's a nice guy there). and other things; i really hope it doesn't ruin anything and i'm sorry if it did. maybe it's even cute, i'm not sure so feel free to tell something, if you want to.. ^^


End file.
